


June 1995

by aryastark_valarmorghulis



Series: Glimpses [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Canon Compliant, Ficlet, Lie Low At Lupin's (Harry Potter), Light Angst, M/M, POV Remus Lupin, free writing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-02
Updated: 2018-09-02
Packaged: 2019-11-04 11:35:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17897690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aryastark_valarmorghulis/pseuds/aryastark_valarmorghulis
Summary: Remus Lupin, summer 1995.Waiting.





	June 1995

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to my beta loonyasalovegood!

**** It's still early.

The window welcomes the sunlight with open shutters, the faded, yellowed curtains shuddering from the gentle touch of a lazy summer breeze.

Remus cradles his now cold cup of tea between his fingers, his sore dorsal muscles and hunched spine protesting against another early morning. No matter how tired his body is after the full moon, his mind is a restless wheel he is unable to steer. The Prophet laid out on the mug stained table next to a dirty plate is days old – the new numbers are useless – the pages curled at the corners, the paper crumpled and creased where Remus clutched at it, grief and fear stabbing at his chest everytime he glanced at the article he now remembers by heart. He pictures Cedric's bright, smiling face when he successfully casted a Shield Charm as he runs fingers through tangled hair. His tired, aching bones steeps with the old but never forgotten dread of what's to come.

Next to the paper there's the rolled scrap of parchment that reminds him of more immediate matters coming to knock – or paw – at his doorstep. He doesn't dread Sirius, except he does a little, a jittery tingle heating his too old limbs like the sunrise is warming the old cracked plaster of the cottage, the hope spreading unwillingly in his foolish heart. Remus can swallow it down, he can bury it deep, like an old wreckage in the seabed, an ocean of guilt and friendship above it. He has before. If there's something he's good at, it's pretending.

He runs the pads of his forefinger over a fissure in the wrinkled wooden table, round and wobbly, too little for two. Only for a moment, Remus indulges himself picturing them both, a mismatched pair of ancient young men, him with grey hair and lined face, Sirius' wiry, wasted limbs barely holding the wilderness within. He lets himself picture them eating on the ratty couch, knees and elbows bumping, uncaring about the alcohol-smelling fabric and the white stuffing peeking out from the seams, basking in each other's company.

It's wishful thinking. After a brief, doomed night and fourteen years of loneliness, Remus knows their relationship is a severed yarn and no matter the attempts to tie up the frayed ends, it will always be a patchy thread. Maybe it had been since the beginning, but he didn't care when he was twenty and in love. He's afraid he still doesn't. Old age should bring poise and temperance but Sirius brings wilderness, like the sudden gush of fresh wind that rattles the shutters. Remus welcomes it all, an old abandoned lover waiting and waiting and waiting for his heart to get broken again. Outside his window, a tiny black dot swooshes past the sun-kissed green meadow until it shapes into a big, black dog and Remus stands up with a jolt, knee joints creaking. He grabs his wand and points it at the stove where the kettle, already full, is settled, and like he rehearsed many times he Vanishes the mess on the table. The house is clean, the pantry filled with the last of his meagre savings.

He opens the door and lets the summer warmth spill inside. 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Come say hi on [Tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/aryastark-valarmorghulis)!


End file.
